


Rewrite The Stars

by Unavis



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Blindfolds, Boys in Space, Denial, Drama, Fluff, Guardians Family, Lots of UST, M/M, Near-Kisses, Peter is 21, Peter's Space Adventures, Protective Peter, Revived Everyone Because I Wanted To, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, Tony Comes Back Pretty Early, Tony is 45, UST, Will Add More Tags as I Upload, but for a good reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unavis/pseuds/Unavis
Summary: It takes five years for Peter to bring back Tony Stark.He snaps Tony back into existence with a replica of the Time and Soul stones, after years of flying through space with the Guardians.But the stones Peter used were not the real Infinity stones and nature knows it. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. A creature stirs, ready to set things right, and all it wants is Peter Parker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is just the introduction to the new fic. It won't be too long before Tony's in it too, just want to have a little fun with Peter in space first.
> 
> Also, I'm not as ahead on this one as I was on my previous fic, having literally just finished this chapter, so I might be uploading a little slower this time round. And it might not be as long, though I'm terrible at keeping my fics short!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!

Peter bends down and digs his fingers into the purple sand, letting it run through his fingers as his mask analyses the miniscule fragments, looking for any minerals that match the ones in his recipe. Nothing. Just like the last five planets they’d been to in the past month.

“Man spider, it is time to leave.” 

Peter rolls his eyes underneath his mask and raises his dirty hand to pull it off. He straightens up, turning round to look at Drax.

“It’s Spider_ man _ , and I’ve told you a million times to call me Peter,” he says impatiently. Drax stares at him blankly. _ You’d think after five years of traveling, he’d have learnt. _Peter sighs. “Right, fine, I’m coming.”

“Quill has arranged a party for you and it’s a surprise,” Drax says to him as they head back to the ship. Peter raises his eyebrows at Drax, a smile spreading across his face.

“You know what a surprise is, right?” 

Drax smiles knowingly back at him. “Of course.”

Peter watches the ramp to the ship open with a hiss and a creak. Peter’s grown to love the ship; it’s a bit battered, scratched and it always needs maintenance, but it’s grown to be Peter’s second home - his only home now.

When they walk up the steel slope, Drax’s footsteps heavy and Peter’s light, he’s greeted by a cluster of confetti and streamers. There’s a banner hung up across the ceiling in an alien language Peter recognises as Annunanki, though he can’t read it.

“Happy Birthday!” Quill, Gamora, Mantis and Rocket shout. Nebula and Groot stand behind them in silence, though they both have party hats perched on top of their heads.

Peter pretends to be surprised and grins at them all.

“Aw, thanks guys.”

“Twenty-one, my dude. It’s _ the _birthday,” Quill says, clapping him on the back. He pulls him further into the ship and the ramp closes behind them. “Drinks and ladies and independence. It’s all yours now.”

“Technically I’ve been able to do all of that already and those rules really only apply to Earth--”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Presents!” Quill shouts. Then he pushes Peter down into one of the pilot chairs and swivels him round, letting an armful of presents fall into his lap.

He opens them one by one. Quill gives him an iPod. It’s a bit old and dirty and full of songs from the 80's. Gamora gets him a new toolkit; Rocket gets him a metal arm that he’s almost certain wasn’t bought, but he accepts it anyway; Mantis gets him some weird alien candies; Groot gets him a retro Gameboy; Drax gets him a set of knives and even after all this time, he’s surprised to find he has a present from Nebula. He pulls off the wrapper and his heart stops when he sees what it is.

It’s a small picture frame and inside is a worn piece of what looks like parchment. On it is a rough sketch colored with red and gold metallic paints that glisten in the light. It’s a picture of Iron Man. 

Peter’s speechless and feels his throat close up as he stares harder and harder at the picture, forgetting about his audience.

“Wow, Nebula, you really know how to kill the mood,” Quill murmurs. 

“You told me to get him something he’d like. So I did.”

“Yeah, like a new fusion drill or a t-shirt with a picture of a cat on or a stripper--” Quill’s cut off when Gamora punches him in the arm. She steps forwards, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, her fingers digging in supportively.

“You okay?” She asks, her long hair falling over her shoulder when she dips her head down to catch his gaze. Peter looks up at her and places a warm hand over her cold, green one. He smiles, and if it’s a little wobbly, she pretends not to notice.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he looks over at Nebula, “I love it, thank you. Thank you all so much.”

And then Quill throws him a thumbs up, turns around to switch on some music, and everyone’s opening drinks and dancing. Peter smiles at his friends, glances once at the picture in his hands, and then puts it down to go and join them.

-x-

It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision. 

They’d fought Thanos, the final battle, and he'd snapped away half of all living things. But in the same fight, Hulk had snatched the Infinity stones and managed to bring them all back immediately, only to have the gauntlet slipped of off his hand. It danced around the battlefield, between Avengers and Chitauri and things were looking good - there were no casualties on their side, they were all fighting together like a team and it was the most thrilling moment in Peter’s life. All of these heroes gathered together from across the world - the _ universe - _and working to defeat this big, evil guy. All past grudges thrown aside, Iron Man and the Winter Soldier back to back, taking on a horde of Chitauri.

But there were only so many of them and so, so many of the enemy. Peter could feel the exhaustion thrumming through his veins, down to his bones, even as he and Quill took on a particularly large Chitauri together.

“Sticky his feet!” Quill shouted. Peter flipped, easily following the order, and stuck the beefy alien’s feet to the smoldering ground. Quill clicked a button in his ear and a mask grew over his face. He charged forwards, throwing both of his hands outwards. The pistols gripped tightly in them transformed into two large swords. He leaped, and Peter webbed the alien’s head and yanked back in time for Quill to slice across its throat, sending it to the floor. Peter high-fived Quill.

“Nice!” Quill had shouted after him as Peter sprinted away. He needed a break. He needed to breathe. 

He ducked behind a piece of the Avengers compound and peeked his head out, observing the fight.

The fight was turning. He looked over at all of the fights happening and with his precise sight, he could see it. Their team was tiring, movements slowing, wounds taking their toll. They were losing. And there were more aliens pouring from the enormous ship above them.

And that was when his spidey sense had gone into overdrive and he stood to his feet, frantically looking around for what it was that had set it off. There, in the middle of the battlefield, Tony Stark sat up on his knees, helmet off. The Infinity Stones sparkled and zapped around his raised hand and Peter felt his stomach fall so hard it felt like it’d fallen right out of him. 

“Mr Stark!” He shouted, but over the busy battle, he couldn’t hear. No one else had noticed, no one was stopping him--

Peter sprinted at him as fast as his legs could carry him, but Chitarui came at him from his left and right and he pushed and webbed and ran. He was too late.

Tony snapped his fingers and then there was a blinding light. Slowly, the battlefield fell quiet. Everyone stood still, some mid-punch or mid-kick, as the aliens faded away into dust, Thanos joining them. Peter didn’t waste a second.

He ran to Tony, who was dragging himself across the burnt earth, propping himself up on a nearby piece of rubble. His skin was scorched on his entire right side, spreading up to his face, and Peter fell to the floor beside him, hands scrabbling all over the chest plate desperately. The life started fading from Tony's eyes.

“Mr Stark, Mr Stark, no, no, no--” He tried to push the tears back but they fell and he felt so, so stupid. Tony’s stare was distant, blank, and he raised one gauntlet to Peter’s face to brush a tear away before his hand fell to the ground with a thud. 

Tony Stark was dead.

There had been mourning, crying, funerals, rooms filled with people and silence, apologies and 'what if’s', guilt and sorrow. After a week of sitting in one of Tony’s vacation homes with the rest of the Avengers, seeing everything of his lying around and the life he’d left behind, the sadness started to leave Peter. It was replaced with determination and denial. 

Everything they’d accomplished, everything Tony had done for the world with technology, surely there had to be something out there that could bring back a life? 

And so when the Guardians were ready to take their leave that night, bags packed and ship ready to go, Peter approached them.

“I want to come. I-If you’ll have me,” Peter asked, realising now that he hadn’t thought through the part of the plan where they _ let _him go with them.

They all stared at him. 

“Aren’t you, like, a kid?” The talking racoon asked, placing a backpack on top of the pile. Peter frowned.

“N-No. I mean, I’m sixteen but I can make my own decisions.” 

The green woman and Quill shared a look with each other. 

“No offence kid, but I’m not the babysitting type. I’d make a very bad role model,” Quill joked, looking at Gamora as if to confirm whether what he’d said was the right thing. She nodded sharply.

“That’s fine, I’m not looking for a role model, I’m looking for a ride,” Peter replied, with more bite than he intended. Rocket laughed.

“I like this guy! But we’re not a taxi for some teenager who wants to go and see the pretty stars. You want to go to space, do it how all you other stupid humans do it; become an astronaut.” Rocket slammed the kid down on the case in front of him. Quill, Gamora and Rocket started to lift a box each, walking away towards the ship. Peter could feel the panic rising in his chest because _ they were his only chance _. 

“I can bring him back!” He shouted, clenching his fists and stepping forwards. They stopped walking away from him and turned slowly. He calmed himself, breathing in and out. Then he stalked towards them in determination. "I can bring Tony back. I just need a little time and research. I know for a fact that I can’t do it with Earth’s technology. J-Just… give me a month. If I can’t come up with a solution in a month, you can drop me off here and carry on with your lives.” He looked at the three of them in turn, jaw throbbing, fists tight at his sides. “Please. The world needs Iron Man.”

They all seemed to be thinking it through carefully. Rocket looked at Quill and Gamora.

“All those in favor of the eight-legged freak defecting from these sad sacks of self-loathing and joining the Guardians?” Rocket held up his hand. Quill raised his hand slowly and Gamora followed suite, though she still seemed cautious.

“You gonna keep your nose out of our missions?” She asked sternly and Peter nodded quickly. “Just a month?” Peter carried on nodding. She nodded once, turned, and carried on toward the ship. 

“Great! Welcome to the better team, kiddo. Grab a crate and hop on board.”

When it was time to leave, Peter stood at the door to the ship and looked at the mansion he’d been staying in. Inside was the rest of the fractured Avengers, probably sleeping, still grieving, still broken. He was petrified. Going into unknown territory, into _ space, _leaving his aunt and his friends and his life behind.

He turned around before the door closed and walked into the rest of the ship with the Guardians, back straight and face passive. He’d do it. He’d come home eventually and with him, a way to bring back Tony Stark.

-x-

He’d only just made the deadline, but he was sure that even if he’d taken longer, the Guardians weren’t eager to kick him off of their ship just yet. Despite Gamora’s previous request, he’d helped them out of many sticky situations, leaping into fights with them after only two weeks on the ship. At first he’d received reprimanding from Gamora, who in turn had pushed Quill to lecture him too. He’d done a terrible job - he was right, he was an awful role model. 

But she’d thanked Peter and eventually, he was included in their strategy meetings - not that you could call them that. It was just Quill standing around a table, clapping his hands together and hollering ‘lets go get some loot!”

Peter knew what he needed, it was getting it that was the problem. There were two things in the world that could bring back a human life and they’d been destroyed back on Earth. The Time stone and the Soul stone. So Peter needed to recreate the closest thing to them as possible.

After a year, he had a battered notebook that had been buried in a three-headed, perfectly preserved alien’s tomb (he was pretty sure the pages were made out of skin, but he tried not to think about it). It contained a list of every chemical, every compound, every molecule that made up each of the Infinity stones. To anyone else, it would have been useless. But to Peter, it read exactly like a recipe book. He just needed to find every single alien ingredient, completely unknown to him. No problem.

Over the course of four years, alongside the missions and treasure-hunting with the Guardians, he’d almost finished. He’d seen so many planets, so many civilisations - it still blew his mind every time he landed on a new planet, covered in blue dirt or with aliens walking around that didn’t want to eat his face off. And he loved every minute of it.

He almost felt guilty, enjoying his trek through space, while Tony was still six feet under, not breathing. But he couldn’t help himself. It felt right, trekking through multiple planets, a team of misfits at his side. With the Avengers, he’d never completely felt like part of the team, always looked down on and treated like a kid. He was a misfit at school as Peter Parker and with the Avengers as Spiderman.

But with the Guardians he was Peter Parker and he was _ one of them. _

With only three elements left to find before he could recreate the Time and Soul stone and a million different planets he could find them, Peter knew he should be giving up hope. 

But when he laid in bed that night, propping the picture frame of Iron Man next to his bed, he felt a surge of motivation. He wasn’t giving up. He wouldn’t. 

Not until Tony Stark was in front of him, heart beating, arc reactor glowing, with a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just wanted to say I did a quick revision in the first chapter; Thanos originally snapped half the Universe away, but Hulk brought them back like five minutes later, all on the same battlefield.

They head to Ulore next, an entire planet dedicated to the exchange of goods. Peter can still remember the first time he’d arrived and it was immediately his favourite planet. Stall after stall of weird alien artifacts, tools, food, weapons, _ everything. _ It was the first place the Guardians had taken him; they’d done a really bad job of hiding how excited they were to show Peter everything, loving every minute of his awe-stricken face.

They’d flown back to restock on parts for the ship, new weapons and provisions, having received a big payout for their previous job.

The ramp of the ship comes down and Peter’s immediately hit with the sounds of a hundred different languages talking over each other, shouting from behind the stalls and a weird, alien song playing over the different speakers tied to the occasional streetlight.

He walks off, his rucksack slung over his shoulder - the only thing he’d brought with him from Earth - and steps out into it all, a big smile across his face. 

“Be back here when the blue star turns red!” Quill shouts over the noise. Peter nods and heads off, his feet crunching on the white stone beneath his feet. He immediately gets lost in the throng of aliens, Quill and the others separating too. The fear and thrill of being among so many different creatures had worn off after the third time he’d been to the planet, but it still simmered through his veins as he looked around at them all.

He felt a small pang of loss when he thought about how much Ned would have loved it.

A stall catches his eye and he heads over to it. Behind the stall is an alien that looks very similar to Mantis, except her ears are long and pointed, the feelers on her forehead much smaller and stunted. She smiles at him as he approaches.

“Earthly artifacts. All very rare, very valuable,” She says to him in perfect English, hands clasped together in front of her. He nods at her and looks down at her wares, hiding his smile.

It’s the strangest spread of objects he’d ever seen. An unopened bag of expired Lays, a toothbrush, a lamp with no plug on the end, a car tire, a Nokia 3310 with a cracked screen. There was so much more junk. Despite it being useless, it sent a stab of nostalgia and homesickness through him. 

He tears himself away from the stall, heading back down the long, winding road, eyes glazing along all of the other tables full of goods, restraining himself from stopping to look more carefully. He could spend _ hours _looking at everything.

“Mr Spiderman!” A large creature that reminds Peter of a slug with legs approaches him, the tiny eyes that stood atop stalks widening in awe. “Mr Spiderman, sign!”

Peter looks down at the scrap of metal that’s been shoved towards him, a large stick resting on top of it. Peter grins at him and takes the stick, scribbling his name onto the iron. He takes the slug’s outstretched hand and shakes it.

“Nice to meet you!” Peter says cheerfully over his shoulder, walking away and leaving the excited creature behind him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened; since the Guardians participation in saving the Universe, the word had spread and they were becoming more and more known, Peter along with them. It should have worried him, having his face plastered across the Universe. But he was far from Earth and the chances of someone connecting him to his family and friends was small, so he took his new celebrity status in his stride. Quill and Rocket certainly had, basking in their new fame whenever they had the opportunity.

He’s bouncing happily away, enjoying the warm temperature, the purple sky blooming above him, the hustle and bustle of alien creatures passing him, when something catches his eye. He stops, hope piercing his heart, and stares hard at the stall next to him.

It’s decorated with glass vials filled with lots of different substances; gasses, liquids, dirt, sand, ores, gems. It’s exactly what he’s been looking for. 

He pushes his way in between two large khavels and scans the vials quickly. The khavel on the other side of the table recognises him and lifts himself up from where he’s leaning against the wall.

“Young Spiderman. Can I help?” He asks in a throaty voice. Peter looks up at him, excitement thrumming through him.

“Ubryx, mubruetium and draorium. Do you have any?” 

The khavel moves immediately, plucking one, two, _ three _vials from their places on the table and hands them over. Peter’s hands are shaking when he reaches out to take them, gathering them into his palms and examining the contents. One has a swirling, metallic-looking liquid inside it - ubryx; the second has a brown mulch - mubruetium; the third has a golden dust floating around, colliding with the glass - draorium. He’d done it. He’d found them all.

“Thank you,” Peter says breathlessly. He leans forwards grabs the khavel’s hand, shaking it thoroughly. “Thank you _ so _much.” His voice catches in his throat. “How much? I’ll give you anything.”

“Free for you, Spider.” The khavel nods and moves away to serve the next customer. Peter tucks the vials away into his backpack, wrapping them in his mask for safety and sprints back to the meeting point.

-x-

“That’s it?” Quill points at the line of vials secured in the spaceship’s equivalent of a mini-fridge, each one surrounded by a soft material to prevent breakages. Peter nods, grinning at him.

“That’s everything. Fifty elements and chemicals. That’s going to make the replica stones, that’s what’s going to bring Mr Stark back.”

The room around them is quiet for a moment. It’s the end of a chapter in their lives, searching for the ingredients with Peter. It’s bittersweet.

“How will you turn them into rocks?” Mantis asks, eyeing up a particularly disgusting looking substance in one of the bottles. Peter smiles sheepishly at them.

“That’s where I’m gonna need your help. I need to go to Nidavellir.”

Rocket’s ears perk up from the pilot’s seat and he rotates the chair around, paws clutching the controls. “Nidavellir, huh? You realise the dwarf that lives there isn’t exactly the welcoming type? What makes you think he’ll help you out?” 

Peter bends down and slides open a piece of the floor. Inside is a large box, metal casing around the edges and glass on every side. And inside the box is what looks like…

“That’s a fetus,” Quill says, voice wobbling. “I’ve been flying around with a _ fetus _on my ship.”

“It’s disgusting,” Drax says bluntly. Rocket hops off of his seat and presses his face as close as he can to the glass. 

“That’s a dwarf baby. You crazy asshole, how the hell did you get that?” Rocket says, pressing a hand to the glass. The fetus inside bobs in the thick liquid. 

“I um… Stole it while we were on that mission on Sathea. Figured it’d come in handy.” Peter shrugs, smiling at Rocket, who’s looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

“You’ve officially become my new favourite person,” Rocket jokes, clapping a paw to the back of Peter’s leg. “This’ll get that miserable excuse for a dwarf to do anything we want. Guess we’re going to Nidavellir.” Rocket jumps back into the pilots seat, sets the coordinates, and the ship rises off of the ground and shoots into space.

-x-

It’s one of the most beautiful things Peter has ever seen. He’s gazing out of the window of the ship as they hover above the fiery, glowing star below them that’s reflecting in his eyes.

“I helped light that thing,” Rocket says smugly, “Fourth on the list of coolest things I’ve ever done.”

“Do we want to know what's first?” Gamora quips from his side, smirking. Rocket grins, his sharp teeth glinting.

“Becoming a Guardian.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” Quill replies in surprise, eyebrows raised. Rocket side-eyes him.

“Stealing shit and blowing bad guys up? But I’m _ allowed _to? Sure, having to tag along with you idiots is a pain, but I gotta work with what I got.”

“There it is,” Gamora sighs, sitting back in her chair. Peter smiles at them all as the ship descends through a tunnel that looks like it’s made out of metal scaffolding, and they land with a clang on the floor. 

The ship door opens with a hiss, thudding against the ground and the sound echoes around the vast workshop around them. It’s lit up by glowing orbs flying around the room, like fireflies, and there’s tables cluttered with odds and ends. Peter restrains himself, wanting to touch _ everything _and stands still. Waits.

“Do we… Do we have to call him? Summon him?” He asks nervously, looking at Rocket. Rocket shrugs.

“Last time I came here, he kind of tried to step on me, I’m not sure on the specifics.”

“I’m here,” A voice booms above them and Peter jumps out of his skin, nearly dropping the box in his arms. He latches his sticky fingers onto it in a panic and then looks up at the source of the voice.

When Rocket had told his story, he thought he’d over-exaggerated the dwarf’s height. Rocket _ was _ small after all. But _ wow _this was not the kind of dwarf that Peter was used to in Earth culture.

He was enormous, big enough that one misstep would squash all of them at once. Peter feels his nerves tripling, grateful that his hands were busy, because he knew they’d be trembling.

“H-Hey, Mr Dwarf, sir. I’m Peter Parker, these are the Guardians. You’ve met Rocket.” He gestures to Rocket, gripping the box tightly with his spare hand. Rocket waves a paw. “I’ve come to ask for your help.”

The dwarf looks down at them, beard long and unruly. “With what?” He asks, eyes narrowing. He’s looking at the box in Peter’s hands. Noticing he’s distracted, Peter hurriedly steps forwards and puts it in front of him.

“This is a--” The dwarf bends down, a whoosh of air blowing into Peter’s face, and picks up the box between his index finger and thumb. His eyes are glistening.

“This is a dwarf fetus. Where did you get this?”

“I-I stole it. I heard what Thanos did to you and figured if you offered to help me, I should give you something in return.” Peter grins, a little too wide to be comfortable. He’s still incredibly nervous. The dwarf raises his big eyes to look at him and it’s just long enough to make Peter and the Guardians shuffle uncomfortably. _ Oh my god, I’m going to die, I’m going to get squished, the Guardians are going to get squished, it’s my fault. _

Suddenly, the dwarf lets out a loud whistle. 

A person who looks almost human, except for the lack of mouth and nose, comes running to his side and takes the box before scurrying away again. They all look on, confused, not quite sure they were in the clear yet. 

Then the dwarf holds out a finger to Peter, who steps backwards in alarm.

“Eitri. It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker,” his voice booms, “I’ll do whatever I can to assist you.” 

Peter sags in relief, taking the huge finger in his both of his hands and shaking it happily. “I-It’s an honor, sir. And, um, I did some research and I’ve found a way you might be able to artificially create more embryos, you know, it might not be the same but you can have a family again--” He stops when Quill nudges him in the ribs. “Right, okay, I’ll tell you later.”

Peter turns around and takes the bag from Quill, opening the zipper. The vials clink together when he tips the bag to show Eitri what’s inside. “I need your forge. I’m going to make a replica of the Time and Soul stone.” Eitri stiffens in front of him and Peter quickly hurries to explain himself. “It’s okay! It’s okay, they won’t be anywhere near as strong, I promise, they’re a one-use type of thing. I’m trying to bring someone back. I’m trying to bring back the person who saved the universe.” 

Eitri tips himself backwards off of his feet, sitting on the floor in front of them. The Guardians steady themselves as the floor trembles beneath them.

“Who would that be?” 

“T-Tony Stark, sir. He killed Thanos but…” Peter swallows, “He sacrificed himself. I want him back.”

Eitri looks at all of them, Drax squaring up when his gaze falls on him, making a small quirk appear on the dwarf’s lips.

“This Tony Stark, he is a friend of Thor?” Peter nods quickly. “Okay. I’m trusting you, Peter Parker. Do not let me down.” Eitri stands to his feet slowly, gesturing for Peter to approach the forge. There’s a pot - more of a meteor-sized hole in the floor - that’s made of a glowing metal. “This is where I put the metals. Then I pull this,” He points at an enormous lever, the size of a house, “And the energy from the star will infuse with it. I’m afraid you will have to do the combining of your ingredients. I’m indisposed.” Eitri raises his metal hands and Peter feels a stab of sympathy.

“Okay. Okay, I can do this.” Peter bends down to reach into his bag and uncorks all of the vials. Mantis steps forwards and starts to help, then Drax, then Quill, and then they’re all standing around the cavernous pot, tipping in the ingredients one-by-one. They start to combine in the base, splitting into two different mixtures; one for the Time stone and one for Soul stone. 

When they’re finished, Peter feels his guts churning and he can’t steady his hands no matter how much he tries. Fingers sneak into the shaking fingers at his side and he looks up to see Nebula standing next to him, facing ahead passively. He smiles at her.

“Thanks,” He whispers and then he looks up at Eitri, giving him a sharp nod. The dwarf places both of his metal-encased hands to the lever and pushes down and it snaps to the base with a crunch. The ground beneath them starts to shake slightly, the workshop filling with a golden light. Peter tips his head over to watch as the bottom of the pot starts to glow, brighter and brighter until his eyes can’t handle it anymore and he has to look away, spots blinking behind his eyelids.

And then it all stops, and it feels like Peter’s heart does too. All of the Guardians seem to be holding their breath as Eitri approaches the edge of the pot with something that looks like a ladle. It feels like it takes a decade for him to lean forwards and then straighten up again, the ladle pressed carefully between his two metal hands. He lowers it, closer and closer, until Peter can see inside.

At the bottom of the huge bowl are two stones, one green and one amber, glowing brightly.

“You did it,” Quill whispers into the silence, voice dripping with astonishment. “Dude, you actually just_ made _two Infinity stones.”

Five years worth of grief, hesitation, stress and defeat lift from his shoulders. Peter takes in a breath that feels as easy as it used to. He was finally going to bring Tony back.

-x-

“You want to do it _ here? _ ” Gamora asks, waving around at the workshop. “You don’t think you should probably try and bring Stark back on _ Earth? _ Coming back to this--” She hesitates at Eitri’s raised eyebrow. She clears her throat. “It’s going to be weird enough being brought back to life.”

Peter looks at the two stones lying in the bottom of the ladle, still having not trusted himself to pick them up. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. But I figured it’d be easier for him, you know? Just us and him for a while, on our way to Earth, get him used to being alive again before we get back and he’s Tony Stark all over again.” Peter’s hands are itching - he’s been ready to grab the stones and attempt to use them for the last five minutes, but the Guardians are insisting on talking about the when, where and how. It’s tiring, because he’s waited five years for this moment and he knows they’re trying to help, he does, but he wants Mr Stark back _ now. _

They’re still talking to him, Drax’s voice cutting in over Rocket’s, Mantis is agreeing with Gamora, Quill arguing with Nebula, Groot standing at the back looking uninterested. Peter gives up. He presses a button on his wrist and activates the glove of his Iron Spider gear, then reaches forwards.

“Peter!” Quill jumps forwards, but it’s too late. Peter’s grabbed the stones and they’re floating around his gauntlet, slotting into place. 

Truth is, he’d not actually thought this far ahead. He’d seen what the Infinity stones had done to Thanos after the first use, seen what had happened to the Hulk. He knew there was going to be a level of sacrifice involved. The Guardians hadn’t even considered it, for which he was thankful, because there wasn’t a chance in hell they’d have let him do it.

The stones start to vibrate, sending tremors through his knuckles and short bursts of static spread across his fingers. His arm has long since gone numb, a force pushing its way from his wrist up to his shoulder, straight into his head which is making him feel like he’s drunk. 

“Peter! Take it off!” Mantis shrieks, hands pressed to her mouth in worry. He looks at the Guardians, the numbness in his arm quickly turning to pain. It’s like his arm is being crushed under ten trucks, the pressure making his entire body tense up. He grits his teeth, bears it, ignores his unfocused eyes and clenches them shut. _ He’s got to do it. He needs to do it. _

It’s like the stones are rejecting him, every inch of his body screaming at him to rip off his gauntlet, fire igniting through his veins. But he thinks, he thinks _ hard, _and then his thumb and forefinger press together.

He snaps and then the world goes dark.

-x-

He knows he’s conscious, barely, but he can’t open his eyes. There’s a warm hand wrapped around his, he can feel that much. The ache and fire is still burning in his bones and he can tell it’s not going to be long before he’s under again. He tries to sort through his fuzzy mind before he loses consciousness, remembers where he is and why he’s there.

He can smell the blankets from his cot wrapped around him, the metal tang of the ship, the familiar smell of home. The hand grasping his is rough and calloused and so, so warm. He tries to hold on, piecing parts of his memory back together again as fast as he can, but he’s slipping away again, the edges of sleep spreading closer and closer through his brain. And then he hears a voice he hasn’t heard for a long, long time;

“What the hell is going on, kid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of Tony in the first two chapters, but he's in it now. Yay! Also, I'll be changing the summary eventually, since the point of the fic will change pretty fast. As soon as I know what direction I'm taking this fic in, i'll change it lmao
> 
> also, sidenote: i've made up everything: elements, alien races, planets. and my disclaimer is that i am not science savvy and im too lazy to research science shit so IM SORRY IF NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE


	3. Chapter 3

Tony wakes up with a gasp, eyes wide, ears ringing and sucking in oxygen that tastes different and heavier. His entire body feels like it’s been rattled around in a metal cylinder, bruised from top to bottom. But when he looks down at himself - and _ why _is he naked - there’s not a bruise, cut or scar on him.

_ Not a scar on him. _

He brushes his fingers down his unmarred chest, where the scar used to be, and it’s smooth. Like he’d been completely remade. As his hearing slowly comes back, the ringing diminishing to a low hum, he realises there’s voices shouting near him. 

A rough material is dropped on top of his body and he looks up at the provider.

_ What the fuck is that? _

He scrabbles his hands through the dusty floor, gripping onto the cloth and moving backwards as fast as he can to get away from the twenty-foot giant who’s looking down at him.

“Tony Stark. Peter Parker told me you saved the universe. I’d like to thank you for that,” his voice booms through Tony’s sensitive ears. He holds out a finger and Tony flinches away from it instinctively. _ Seriously, what the fuck is going on. Am I dreaming? What’s Parker got to do with it? _The longer the giant waits, the longer Tony starts to feel bad, so he takes the finger and shakes it. Satisfied, the giant steps back. “I am Eitri, I am a dwarf. You’re on Nidavellir. Peter Parker used some stones to bring you back. He will be glad it worked.”

_Back? Back from what?_ _Stones? Dwarf? _

Tony looks around hurriedly for any inclination to where he was, but it’s all tables and scrap and glowing, floating lights. None of it feels right.

He stands uneasily to his feet, wrapping the cloth around his body, searching for anything, anyone to help him. His hearing finally comes back completely and that’s when he spots the gaggle of people bending over someone, a gruff-looking guy in a red jacket picking an unconscious person up. He moves closer, legs stiff, the soles of his feet pressing into the dusty floor. _ Wait. _

“Quill?” He asks, and his voice is croaky, dry vocal cords rubbing together. The man looks up, eyes widening.

“Holy shit, it worked,” Quill says, hands tightening on… _ Peter. It’s Peter. _ Tony makes to move forwards, but a green woman steps in front of him, pushing a hand to his chest. He’d seen her, on the battlefield. _ The battlefield… _

“He needs medical, save your special reunion for later,” Gamora says sternly. “Drax, help Stark onto the ship and get him some clothes.”

An overly-large person moves towards him, skin a grey-ish colour with red lines shooting across his bare chest. Tony’s still trying to get his bearings, trying to figure out why he’s surrounded by aliens and why Peter is lying lifeless in Quill’s arms. Drax steps towards him, gripping Tony’s upper arm and he wants to shrug him off but the support is actually helping his weak legs hold him up. 

They head back to a battered spaceship and Tony doesn’t take his eyes off of Peter the entire time.

-x-

“He’s fine, the energy from the stones has tired him. He will wake up soon.” Nebula sits back, the beam of light from her eye blinking away. Everyone sags with relief, Gamora rubbing a hand over her forehead.

“Why didn’t we think nothing would happen? They hurt _ Thanos. _”

“Because we’re idiots,” Drax replies with no sarcasm. Quill snorts. 

“Sorry-- I just-- I need to cut in here.” They all turn to look at Tony, who’s hunched over a chair next to Peter, gripping his hand, dressed in some of Quill’s clothes. “As nice as it is being basically ignored, I think it’s about time someone told me what’s happening. Not a fan of being in the dark.”

Gamora and Quill share a look, and Quill clears his throat.

“I think that’s Peter’s job. Mantis.” Quill nods at her and she moves forwards, leaning over Peter’s head with her weird head-tentacle things and Tony’s still trying hard to convince himself that he’s not dreaming.

“Wake up,” she whispers and then Peter’s lurching upright, sucking in a heavy breath. 

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you’re okay, kid.” Tony stands up, one hand supporting his back and the other on his front. Peter grasps the hand on his chest tightly until his breathing evens out. Then he raises his head and looks straight at Tony.

Tony swallows. There’s something different. This isn’t the same Peter Parker he’d fought with against Thanos. This isn’t the kid from Brooklyn who always seemed to have a constant buzz of energy about him. His face had slimmed out, his hair longer, his jawline more defined. 

“Mr Stark,” He whispers, eyes filling with unshed tears and his lips wobbling as he smiles. The smile turns into a grin and he reaches forward, pulling Tony into a firm hug and holding tightly, like he was about to disappear. 

Tony reluctantly accepts it, eyes wide with surprise the entire time. He’s still confused, still needs answers, and as nice as it is, it doesn’t feel like all that long ago that Peter had seen him. So why?

Peter pulls back when he realises Tony isn’t returning the hug, sniffing and wiping a hand over his nose. He’s still grinning though, like Tony’s the best thing he’s ever seen. 

“Answers. Now, please,” Tony asks, breaking his gaze away from Peter’s. He prides himself on his knowledge, knowing how things work and what was happening at all times. Being on an alien planet, surrounded by aliens, with Peter being the only familiar face, was overwhelming him. He can feel the pinpricks of an anxiety attack starting and he needed to know _ now. _

And so Peter tells him. 

The Guardians flutter out of the room behind them but Tony doesn’t notice. He sits and he listens, watches Peter’s matured face light up and fall as he tells his story. About how many years its been, the missions Peter goes on, searching for the right ingredients to make replica Infinity stones - which Tony is both angry and impressed about, and also a little excited to look at himself. When he’s finished, Tony puts his face in his hands.

“Five years? _ Five years? _And I died? That doesn’t sound like me.” Peter lets out a breathless laugh.

“No, no I guess it doesn’t. But you saved us. You’re kind of a celebrity all over the Universe now.”

Tony raises his eyebrows at Peter. “Really? Well, I’m sure that’ll do great things for my ego.”

Peter laughs again, eyes shining brightly at Tony, a look that echoes the same expression he used to give Tony back when he was a kid. _ Christ, he’s not a kid anymore. _ He’d taken off into space, left behind everything, to bring him back. Him, of all people. There was some kind of hysterical aura around them both right now and Tony knew it wasn’t going to be long before the guilt set in, before everything settled in his mind and he realised that Peter had thrown away five years of his life to bring back an old, broken man.

Then a question pops into his head. One that he should have thought of at the beginning.

“Why did you do it?” Tony asks, leaning forwards with his elbows pressed into his knees. Peter blinks at him dumbly, tilting his head to the side.

“Do what?”

“This,” Tony gestures offhandedly in the air. “Why’d you take off on your little space adventure to bring me back?”

Peter’s smile falters, staring blankly at Tony, and his fingers dig into his shorts. Then he starts to laugh. Tony eyes him up curiously.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Mr Stark, not once in the whole five years that I’ve been doing this did I ever think about why. I just… knew I had to do it.”

Tony opens his mouth and closes it again. Silence falls over them and it’s a little stifling, Tony has to lean back and take in a breath.

“You spent five years of your life trying to bring me back. You couldn’t have just left me be? I knew the risks of using the stones and I took them anyway.”

“And if you were in the same position, you’d do it again. I get it, Mr Stark, I do. But the world needs Iron Man,” Peter replies, and the last six words roll off his tongue easily, like it’s a familiar phrase. Tony settles Peter with a hard stare, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“You don’t think the world needed Spiderman? You don’t think your friends and family needed Spiderman?”

Peter clenches his jaw, finally tears his gaze away from Tony’s, and looks down at the bed beneath him. 

“I… I get that what I did was wrong. But back on Earth, I was a child in everyones eyes. I had a curfew, I had to ask permission to do what I needed to do, I had my future written and planned out by everyone but myself. Even now, as an adult, I know that back then I wasn’t just being a typical teenager. I remember how I felt, how my mind worked and I _ know _ that I wasn’t a kid. The Guardians took me in, took me where I needed to go, respected my mission, treated me like part of the team. It’s all I ever wanted.” Peter’s eyes snap to Tony’s, a hint of anger behind them. Because Tony was one of those people that didn’t take him seriously, and he knows that.

“But your aunt--”

“--I know. I could have visited Earth whenever I wanted, you know? But I knew if I went back, I’d be asked questions, I’d be told that I was wasting my time, I’d be told to stay, and looking at May’s face would make me want to. So I didn’t.”

Tony reaches forwards and grips Peter’s knee. He can feel it now. The crushing guilt, piling on his chest and suffocating his heart. It’s not his fault, of course it isn’t, it’s clear that was Peter did was his own choice. But how was he supposed to live, knowing that the reason he’s breathing was because a kid jumped into space with people he barely knew and didn’t go home for five years?

“Okay. Okay. It’s done now, right? I’m back, you’ve thrown five years of your life away to do it, but what does that matter?” Tony stands to his feet, ready to leave Peter’s room, because _ how is he going to live like this, now? _

A firm hand around his wrist stops him.

“I’d do it all again, even if I knew it’d make you mad,” Peter says quietly, fingers pressing into his skin. Tony flips around, letting out a humorless laugh.

“‘Mad’? You think I’m angry with you? No, kid, no I’m not. I just have to live with the guilt that you’ve put on me. I dragged you into this life, you’re here because of me, you did this because of me. I wasn’t worth saving, trust me.”

Peter lets go of his wrist, standing to his feet too, and Tony has to take a few steps back to make space between them.

“There’s a planet full of people out there who think otherwise. A universe.” Peter’s eyes flick between his. “Like I said, given the choice, I’d make the same decision.”

Tony grinds his teeth together, stares hard at the boy in front of him. Then he gives in, lets out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and sits back down.

“Peter Parker, you’re an impossible human being.”

Peter sits back down too, the waves of irritation evaporating away. He looks into his lap and then back at Tony.

“Is it weird I’ve missed you being angry with me?” He says eventually, a twinge of humor in his voice. Tony laughs at that and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, a bit. So…” He sits up again. “You want to introduce me officially to this team of yours?”

And then Peter’s eyes light up, like the past five minutes had never happened, and he leaps off of the bed. 

“More than anything, yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

They’re all seated around the ship, slung over chairs and the floor, plates of food in their laps. It’s one of their special provisions - packaged meat and space fries (which are apparently a common thing in space too). Tony doesn’t want to question what meat it is. It tastes like lamb and beef mixed into one and it’s delicious, so he stays willingly oblivious.

“And so Peter just fires his web at this giant dudes arm that’s just laying on the floor - Groot had squeezed it off - and he swings it round and whacks him in the head with his own arm, knocks him completely unconscious,” Quill throws another fry into his mouth, grinning at Tony, who throws Peter an amused glance. “Totally brutal. We lost a few credits for that bounty, but it was worth it.”

“You forgot about Rocket being shook upside down for the missing toe!” Peter cuts in, shouting over the laughs. Quill claps his hands together and points at Peter.

“You’re right. I’ve still got a picture of that somewhere. It just fell out of his bag straight onto the floor. And there was this moment of silence where we’re all trying _ so _hard not to laugh in a room full of super-serious, green aliens.”

Rocket sneers at them all, though his eyes are twinkling. “How about I hang you upside down by your balls, see if you think that’s funny.”

Drax pushes Rocket, guffawing loudly, and almost sends him out of the pilot chair and onto the floor.

“Quill does not have balls, silly fox!” He shouts through his laugh, and the rooms hysteria increases, Drax getting a fry to the face for his comment.

Tony’s gaze catches Peter’s as they laugh and the grin on his face shrinks to a warm smile, Peter returning it. He’d been so worried, had felt so bad about Peter’s escapades through space, but looking around at the Guardians, their infectious laughter and silliness, made him feel infinitely better. Because he hadn’t done it alone, he could see that now, and every single person on the ship loved Peter. 

He was almost jealous. They’d spent more time with him than he ever had, watched him grow up. It wasn’t quite a paternal feeling he had - it ran parallel to it, but it was more like… meeting an old friend you wished you’d never lost contact with, and hearing their stories, wishing you’d been there to share those moments with them.

After a few more drinks, the Guardians started to leave for their bunks.

“We’ll be on Earth tomorrow,” Quill throws himself down in a chair next to Peter. “How you feelin’ about it, buddy?” Peter sends Quill an unsure smile and does a one-shoulder shrug.

“Feeling pretty good actually, yeah.” 

“You know, it’s been a while, things might not be the same down there. You ready for that?” Quill smacks a hand onto Peter’s shoulder, gripping it.

Peter nods firmly. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’m ready.”

Then Quill’s hand moves to the back of Peter’s head, pushing it into his chest, and he wraps his arms around Peter completely, squeezing him tightly.

“Man, I am gonna miss you so much, Spider-dude.” Quill pushes his face into Peter’s hair and Tony smirks at them. _ Yeah, they love him. _

“You’ll still see me, I’ll always be around for missions. And you never know, if Earth doesn’t work out for me…” Peter’s voice is muffled in Quill’s jacket but Tony can still hear him. He straightens up at that last part, because what did _ that _mean? 

Quill lets him go, ruffles a hand in his hair and then stands up from the chair. He throws Tony a two-fingered salute and walks away. 

“‘If Earth doesn’t work out for you’?” Tony repeats, unable to hide the edge to his tone. Peter’s hair is sticking up after Quill’s hands had been through it, and he doesn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“Mr Stark, this has been my life for five years. I’ve gotten used to it and I love it. If I go back to Earth and things are back to how they used to be, I don’t think I’ll be able to…” He trails off, swallows, picking at a label on the bottle in front of him. 

“What was the point in all of this, then? Bring me back, dump me back on Earth and then run off back to space? Think about your aunt, your friends, you’re an _ Avenger-- _”

“I’m a Guardian!” Peter half-shouts, his fiery gaze snapping to Tony’s and Tony flinches at the anger there. It fades quickly. “I-I’m sorry, Mr Stark. It’s just… I’ve been a Guardian a lot longer than I was ever an Avenger. I always will be.”

Tony feels his guts twist around in the bottom of his stomach, a pinch in his chest. Whenever he’d looked at Peter, he’d seen his future. An Avenger, protecting New York City from petty criminals, swinging around on the battlefield next to the heroes Tony himself had flown alongside, balancing the normal and superhero life with ease. 

Not this. Not on a spaceship with a bunch of misfits, living off of bounties and other missions, practically an upper-class, morally-correct mercenary. 

“You’re happy with this life? No stability, no chance of a future with a family, living off of re-hydrated food?” Tony asks and it still has an edge to it, but it’s a genuine question. Peter shrugs.

“It was a mission. Now it’s not,” Peter’s eyes flicker to Tony and back again, his insinuation clear, “So maybe I can give it a real test run, see if I really want this. If Earth doesn’t work out, that is.”

Tony stares at him, biting back any defensive comments he has, because he knows - he _ knows - _it’s not his place. If Peter decided to skip out on Earth and jump back into a spaceship, what did it matter to him?

“Alright, well, lets hope it doesn’t come to that.” Tony pats him on the back and stands up. “Come on, long day tomorrow.” 

Peter stands and if he notices that Tony’s hand stays on his back until he’s saying goodnight and climbing into his bunk, he doesn’t say anything.

-x-

“It’s beautiful,” Peter whispers. “I mean, I’ve seen all sorts of planets, but there’s something about seeing your home planet for the first time…” He trails off.

Tony nods next to him and Peter takes his gaze off of Earth just for a moment to look at Tony’s face lit up in awe, the planet reflecting in his eyes. It was amazing, seeing someone else’s reaction to the beauty of space for the first time. 

“Hey, so, we’re gonna be sticking around for a bit!” Quill shouts over his shoulder, burying himself into a nearby trunk full of clothes. Peter snaps himself out a trance he hadn’t realised he’d fallen in, tearing his eyes off of Tony.

“What?” 

“Quill wants to do some soul-searching on his home planet or some bullshit,” Rocket says from the pilots chair. Peter feels his entire face lighting up.

“You guys are gonna stay?”

“Not for long, but yes,” Nebula replies, not taking her eyes off of where she’s tinkering with her arm, screwdriver in her other hand. “Personally, I don’t think it matters how much soul-searching he does, he’s still going to be an idiot.”

“I heard that!” Quill shouts, pulling his head out of the trunk and straightening up, a bundle of clothes in his arms.

Gamora appears next to Peter, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a side-hug. She smiles down at him. “Gives you time to think about what you want to do too.”

Peter smiles back at her, tucking an arm around her waist and tilting his head onto her shoulder.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

“Alright, we got a response, we’re all set!” Rocket shouts over everyone, pressing multiple buttons around his chair, flicking switches. “Buckle up!”

Gamora releases Peter, Peter grabs Tony’s arm to drag him over to the seats. Tony still seems dazed, unfocused, like his mind is still on the planet below them. Peter grins.

“Takes a while for the feeling to wear off. Hey,” He shakes Tony’s shoulder, “Strap in.”

Tony blinks rapidly, disoriented, and then catches himself, schooling his expression and frowning at Peter while he buckles himself in.

“You didn’t see that,” He says. Peter grins wider.

“You going comatose staring at a planet? Nah, I saw it.” Peter grips the arms of his chair tighter as the ship starts to tremble, rattling his bones and chattering his teeth. Tony looks stiff and a little worried, but he throws Peter a smirk.

“Let’s go home.”

-x-

The ship lands with a thump and Peter’s nerves start to prickle and spread across his skin. This was it. He was back, after five years, and he was both terrified and excited. Tony seems a lot calmer, all things considered, but to him it hadn’t really been all that long, had it?

“Alright, lets go!” Quill claps his hands together, a huge, excited grin on his face. He bends over to pick up a duffel bag and the other Guardians stand up too, collecting their bags. Peter tries to unclasp his belt, but his fingers are trembling and it’s taking a lot longer than it should. 

A pair of hands appear and unbuckle it for him. He looks up at Tony, who raises one of the hands to ruffle Peter's hair.

“It’ll be fine, kid. Come on.”

And then Peter stands up, legs weak, heart pumping, gaze settled firmly on the door to the ship. It’s opening, light shining in through the cracks, burning his eyes, but Peter can’t look away. He steps closer and closer, Tony’s hand supporting his back, until a gust of fresh air hits him in the face and he breathes it in.

_ Home. _

The Guardians form a line in front of him, walking off the ramp and onto a long stretch of concrete. Peter follows them warily and he can’t slow his speeding heart down no matter how much he tries. His shaking fingers clench the bag over his shoulder, steadying them.

When his feet touch the solid ground, the nerves calm, and he’s smiling, laughter bubbling in his chest. He’d made it. He’d did it. He was home and so was Tony Stark. When he lifts his head, the breeze ruffling his hair, he can see the Guardians have stopped. He quirks his head round, looking in between Quill’s and Drax’s head, and his breath catches.

There’s other people lined up to meet them. He swallows, tightens his grip on his bag, and then squeezes between Gamora and Nebula to get a better look. His heart stops.

It’s Steve, Thor, Wanda, Bucky and--

A pair of arms throw themselves around his neck and Peter drops his bag, startled. But then he remembers the smell, remembers the hair, remembers the tightness of her arms and the sound of the voice muttering next to his ear.

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” She says over and over again, wetness coating Peter’s shoulder. His own eyes fill with tears, falling silently off of his face, and he lets out a quiet sob.

“May,” He whispers back, and he holds her closer to him. She’s a couple of inches smaller than him now, a streak of grey in her hair, thinner. He doesn’t want to let go, but he has to, he has to see the rest of them, has to explain himself.

She lets him go reluctantly and when Peter sees her face, a whole new series of tears threaten to fall. She’s barely aged, but she’s staring at him with so much relief, so much love, so much happiness. 

“May, what are you--”

“Tony?” 

Peter looks away from her, over at Steve, whose face has dropped, eyes wide. Everyone else follows his gaze and Peter watches as Tony pushes his way past the line of Guardians. He stretches his arms wide.

“Miss me?” He says, but there’s a hint of emotion there. Steve drops his Captain America facade and propels himself forwards, grabbing Tony and pulling him into his arms. Wanda joins him, Thor next, until Tony’s nothing but a head in a group of people. “Okay, okay, I get it, let a man breathe.”

They all pull away, one by one, disbelief etched into their faces. Steve grips Tony’s biceps, eyes searching his face.

“I saw you die. We all did.”

Tony smirks. “Turns out I'm not great at staying dead.”

Steve, despite his shock, takes his attention away from Tony for a second to glance at Peter, not hesitating as he walks over to him and then pulls him into his arms.

“We looked for you. Was still looking for you. What--”

“Listen, this is a great reunion and all, but we’re really looking forward to sleeping in some proper beds. Got any rooms going?” Rocket butts in, gesturing at the rest of the Guardians. Steve reluctantly steps away from Peter, not taking his eyes off of him. 

“Head to the compound. Plenty of rooms to go around.” Steve gestures at the enormous building behind them that Peter notices for the first time.

It’s not the Avengers compound he was used to. Obviously not, it had been destroyed in the final battle. It’s a [skyscraper](https://d1a9v60rjx2a4v.cloudfront.net/2013/10/03/06_09_24_229_3d_building_716_1_1.JPG), but it looks like stack upon stack of triangle-shaped plates, each on rotated at a slightly different angle. There's windows between the spaces of each triangle and the entire tower sits atop a smaller, two-story building, though it’s much wider. There’s a giant, silver ‘A’ standing on top.

“Where are we?” Peter whispers in awe, looking around their surroundings. The tower sits atop a hill, overlooking a small village below them. Steve gestures for them to start walking, and May grips Peter’s hand as they walk, not taking her eyes off of his face the entire time. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, he knew, but everyone would hear the story. The story of how he brought Tony Stark back to life.

“New Asgard,” Steve replies, but his attention is elsewhere, studying Tony as he walked alongside Thor, who’s wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Steve jerks his head in their direction. “You have something to do with that?” Peter smiles, nods, and looks back over at Tony. Steve nods firmly, looks straight ahead, shoulders tight. “Well, I’m sure you can tell us all about it.” 

And then the doors to the new Avengers tower opens and they all step inside. Together. On Earth. 

Peter squeezes May’s hand even tighter and five years worth of stress fades away.

-x-

Deep in a place between reality and somewhere else, a swirl of black dust dances around each other, mixing and separating. Eventually, particle by particle, it starts to come together through trial and error. A shadow of an arm, a black blob of a head, elongated legs growing and shrinking. The figure lifts a shadowed hand to its face and turns it over, examining the black swarm of dust that follows as it moves. 

There’s a light, somewhere in the never-ending darkness of this mysterious realm. The shadow knows what to do. Its birth had happened for one reason and one reason alone. The picture of the face that it needs to hunt is all it can see in front of the gaping holes where its eyes should be. 

The faceless shadow seems to glide forward, not walk, heading further and further towards the light, the doorway, to Earth.

Someone had shaken up the balance in the Universe and it needed to be restored. Hatred, fury, determination, the shadow clenches its dark fist and flies through the light, bursting into a stable reality for the first time. 

It needs to kill Peter Parker.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the links in this fic will take you to a picture of the room i'm describing. i find it hard to paint a picture with words, so figured an actual image would help)

“These Infinity stones, do you still have them?” Is the first thing Steve says after Peter’s sat them down and explained the situation. Nodding, prepared for that to be the first thing for anyone to ask, he pulls out the two gems from his pocket. Their color has dulled a little, but they still hold a low glow to them. 

“They don’t work. They’re just lumps of rock now.” He bangs one on the table in front of him as if to emphasise his point. Steve nods, still eyeing them with caution. 

“So this…” Steve gestures at Tony, “This is a done deal?”

Peter can’t help the smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah! He’s here for good.”

“‘He’ is in the room, feeling very left out right now,” Tony says and everyone’s head turns to look at him, like they were still surprised to hear his voice.

“Try not to die in a dramatic fashion this time,” Thor grins at him and takes a swig from his tankard. Tony sends him a salute. “It is good to have you back, Stark.”

“Glad to be back, even if it doesn’t feel like I’ve been gone. Anyone else know yet?”

“Rhodey and Pepper are on their way. A memo’s gone out to a select few about your return, but we’d like to keep it on the down low for now,” Steve says, sending Tony a smile. “Can’t believe you’re really here. I really thought that was the last of you, Tony.” 

“Yeah, well, if anyone was going to one-up all of my accomplishments and raise a person from the dead, it’d be Peter Parker.” Tony slings an arm around Peter’s shoulder, catching him by surprise, but he grins and lets Tony tug him into his side, hand gripping his bicep firmly.

“You guys should go and get settled in, we’ll take you round for a tour when you’re finished,” Steve says, rising out of his chair. Peter’s buzzing, both with the praise from Tony and at the fact he’d get to go and talk to May. 

Tony pulls away from him and stands up, walking away with Wanda, who punches him on the arm and leads him out of the conference room. Peter watches him go, chest filled with overflowing happiness, at the sight of his back. The sight of him living, breathing, walking.

“You did that,” A voice says from next to him. Thor claps a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think there’s enough words or gifts in the Universe we can give you as thanks.”

Peter’s thrumming, because he’d not had many interactions with Thor before he’d left Earth and he was being thanked by a _ god. _He looks back at him, grinning.

“The world needs Iron Man,” He replies, a little breathlessly. Thor stares at him carefully for a moment, a smile on his lips, before letting out a laugh.

“I guess it does, Peter Parker. I guess it does.”

-x-

Peter throws his small bag of belongings he’d taken off of Quill’s ship onto his bed and drops a case full of clothes onto the floor. He looks around his [ room](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/e5/23/bc/e523bca2c7854a3e285e9faebece20c8.jpg).

The floors and walls are all slate, with a wooden bed and bedside table on one wall and a matching desk on the other. The closet is tucked away behind a sliding door that blends with the wall. The huge floor-to-ceiling window is what catches Peter’s eye and he heads over to it, dropping his bags in the middle of the floor.

It takes his breath away. It overlooks the village down the hill from the tower and he can see the wild sea in the distance, crashing against the beach. Even though the weather is overcast, and everything’s coated in a filter of grey, it’s still beautiful.

It’s not quite home, no bustle of the city beneath him or loud traffic. But it’s enough.

There’s a knock at the door and then the sound of it creaking open brings Peter’s attention away from the view. It’s May and she looks like she’s about to cry. Peter lets out a small laugh and holds his arms out, letting her run into them and hold him tightly.

“Just so you know, you are so grounded,” She says into his ear, her voice wobbling.

“I’m twenty-one now, May. I don’t think you can.” May pulls away, gripping his arms, smiling at him with watery eyes. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” She’s trying hard to look angry, but there’s too much relief there, and it makes the guilt pressing on Peter’s chest push even harder. He looks at his feet.

“May, I’m sorry. I really, really, am. But I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t lose someone else--” May pulls him into her arms again, giving Peter an opportunity to blink his welling tears away.

“I know. I get it, Peter. But you could have told me, you could have told anyone.”

“I-I couldn’t… I couldn’t tell anyone, I knew you’d make me stay, or I’d feel too bad and I needed to get him back, May.” He pushes a hand gently against her shoulder and breaks out of the hug. A smile breaks out across his face. “And I did it.” 

May tilts her head to the side, her eyes wet, and she cups his cheek in her hand. “I know. And as much as I want to woop your ass six ways from Sunday, I’m also insanely proud of you.” She shakes herself a little, takes her hand away from his cheek and looks around the room, hands on her hips. “What’s done is done. You’re back, Tony Stark is back. Things are getting back to how they should be.” 

Peter smiles at her, watching her pick up his bags and start to unpack them for him. Then a thought crosses his mind and he frowns, his eyes still on hers.

“May. What are you doing here?” May looks up from his bags.

“Hm?”

“Here. With the Avengers,” Peter asks, taking a step forwards.

May looks a little sheepish when she looks away, carrying on unpacking Peter’s things into neat piles on the bed. She’s trying to stretch out the time before she has to answer and Peter knows. He presses a hand into hers and stops her moving. She sighs.

“When you… when you disappeared, I didn’t know what to do. What could I tell the cops? So I did everything I could to find your superhero buddies.” She sits down on the edge of his bed. “Steve listened to me, helped every way he could to find you. I didn’t want to go back to New York, when you weren’t…” She trails off, shaking herself before continuing. “One thing led to another and then I’m helping them build this place and taking a job as their assistant.” 

Peter swallows the lump in his throat. On one hand, the crushing guilt on his shoulders is making him dizzy. On the other, his _ aunt _ was working with the _ Avengers. _

“I don’t…” Peter laughs and shakes his head, “I don’t know whether to say sorry or ask you more questions.”

May lifts her head and grins up at him, waving an arm, gesturing for him to sit beside her. He does and she pushes her hand into his hair and urges his head onto her shoulder. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you now, that’s all that matters.” They sit like that for a while, May’s hand stroking his hair. “And I… We… Knew where you were.”

Peter’s head shoots up, almost smacking into the side of May’s cheek. 

“What?” 

She looks at him for a second, then lets out a sigh and pulls out her phone. She taps into the keyboard, then passes it to Peter.

It’s a fanpage for the Guardians, him included. Him, as in Peter Parker, not Spiderman.

“Earth is a bit different in the five years you’ve been gone. Did you know New York was the first city to welcome trade from outer space? And then Washington let aliens take refuge there and now it’s pretty much a mix of humans and aliens. I bought a hot dog from a dude with three eyes. Weird stuff.”

Peter can’t get any words out of his mouth, he just lets out a croak. May pats him on the knee.

“You saved the Universe, you didn’t think word would get back here about you travelling with the Guardians? Didn’t stop us looking for you. We just wanted… to talk.” May’s eyes look sad again and Peter pulls her in for a hug, eyes focused on the wall behind them. 

He’s out of his comfort zone. He’s speechless and guilty and amazed and it’s so much to take in, he can’t do anything but hold his aunt and let his brain process everything.

“USA? Being the first countries to let aliens in? I don’t believe you,” He finally says, and May laughs against his chest.

“Brave new world, Peter Parker The Guardian.” She pulls away and smiles at him, putting a hand on his cheek and running her thumb along his cheekbone. 

“May Parker, Assistant to the Avengers,” He replies with a grin and she pushes his face away.

When they both start to unpack Peter’s things, Peter keeps glancing over to her, a smile on his face and the weight on his chest feeling lighter than it ever had.

-x-

After Tony’s settled into his new room, he follows the directions Wanda had given him and makes his way up to the tenth floor, where the lounge is. 

When the doors to the elevator open, a smirk spreads across his face. Whoever had a hand in designing the [Avenger’s lounge](https://cdn.homesthetics.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/17-Inspiring-Fresh-Modern-Living-Room-Designs-to-Fit-Your-Modern-Mansion-smart-fancy-cozy-and-stylish-homesthetics-1.jpeg) definitely has taste.

It’s open space, wood and marble, an open-plan fireplace next to a set of four white armchairs and a sleek black sofa on the other side of the room, a large television on the wall. An entire wall is floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto an amazing sunset.

There’s the occasional personal touch around the room, a few jumpers strewn across a footstool, a badly-drawn Hulk pinned to the refrigerator, empty mugs on the side, group pictures hung on the wall. He walks up to a sideboard adorned with picture frames. There’s one of at least every Avenger; Clint and Nat pulling a stupid face, Steve and Bucky grinning, Thor and Loki with Thor in a headlock, Bruce and Wanda drinking cocktails. There’s so, so many. But Tony’s hand reaches out for the one right in the center, an obvious space around it.

It’s the stupid intern picture him and Peter had taken, Peter holding the certificate upside down and Tony with two fingers behind his head. He smiles at it, wiping a thumb along the dust on the glass.

Five years. He still can't wrap his head around it. Everyone has moved on, rebuilt, reborn themselves. He's still stuck on a day that feels like yesterday, Thanos’s face fresh in his mind and the smell of his burning flesh in his nostrils. Still stuck on Peter Parker’s young, innocent face smiling at him while he turned down his spot in the Avengers.

“Nice place, right?” Tony looks up at Peter’s aunt, who’s smiling tightly at him, hands tucked into her suit pants. He puts the picture down and turns to face her. She’s different from the time he’d met her in that tiny apartment in Queens. Dressed in a lilac suit, perfectly tailored, hair tied back smartly and a confident air about her.

“It’ll do,” He replies, tilting his head to the side, still examining her outfit. He waves a hand at her. “What’s this all about? You’re reminding me of Miss Potts - which is a compliment, by the way - and it’s scaring me.”

She lets out a laugh and walks over to him, taking a hand out of her pocket to loop her arm in his. He accepts and lets her lead him over to the bar in the corner of the room, where they both sit on a pair of black and chrome stools.

“Never thought of it like that, but I guess you could say I’m the Pepper Potts around here.” Tony raises his eyebrows at her, graciously accepting the drink she passes him.

“Mrs Parker, color me surprised.”

May throws him a smirk. “Needed to keep busy while Peter was up there galavanting around in space. This,” She gestures to herself, “Was actually an accident.”

Tony downs the rest of the whiskey and pats her on the shoulder. “Happy accident, I take it?”

She nods, and then her eyes look over Tony’s shoulder, focused on something else, so Tony follows her gaze. Peter’s standing at the entrance to the lounge, mouth open in awe as he takes in the surroundings.

“This is insane,” He says breathlessly as he approaches them. He leans over and takes Tony’s glass, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the top of the bar.

“Woah, woah, wo--” Tony goes to stop him, but Peter grabs his wrist quickly. He’s got a twinkle in his eye.

“Twenty-one, remember?” Peter says, tipping himself a mouthful’s worth in the glass, before throwing it back. 

“Technically you weren’t on Earth and time’s a bit funky up in space, so you could actually be younger than when you left,” Tony remarks, pointing at his face. Peter shakes his head.

“Quill has a digital calendar on the ship, I knew what day it was on Earth even if I was all in the way in the Perileos galaxy.” Peter says it so offhandedly, like Tony and May would know where he was talking about.

Tony shares a confused look with May, who shakes her head in disbelief.

“Remind me to ask you for more of your space adventures later,” Tony says eventually, tugging Peter’s elbow so he falls onto the stool next to him. Peter grins and accepts the drink Tony pours for him. 

“I can tell you now, if you want?” Peter says excitedly and Tony stares at his eager expression, eyes alight, fingers twitching in anticipation, and he can’t bring himself to say no. 

He smiles. “Sure, kid.”

-x-

There’s a ‘Welcome Back’ party in the evening. A welcome back to Peter, from space, and for Tony, from death. The lights in the lounge are dimmed, music pumping loudly through what seems like invisible speakers, drinks pouring and the floor busy with people, a mix of Avengers, Guardians and New Asgardians.

He’s surprised at the amount of people who approach him and use his name, patting him on the back, hugging him, asking about space. The rest of the Guardians are similarly surprised at the attention they’re receiving, signing autographs, taking pictures, making new friends. Peter watches them fondly.

They were such a close, tight-knit group, that anyone who had approached them in the whole five years Peter had been with them was immediately dismissed. Not in a way that was rude, more just a gentle nudge away, the hint very clear: this club is full.

Peter was the only exception.

“Missing your little posse already?” 

Peter looks up at Tony, who’s leaning against the wall next to him, dressed in a pressed, dark purple shirt and a pair of black slacks. He looks _ good, _especially with the few buttons near his collarbone undone, revealing a smooth patch of skin. Peter swallows.

“I guess. Still feels weird, trying to talk to anyone else. It’s like they’re on a--”

“--completely different level,” Tony finishes, smirking as he sips the drink in his hand. Peter smiles, his heart warming. He isn’t alone.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly it. They’ve made their own family and it feels like we’re intruding a bit now, you know?”

Tony nods, his shoulder brushing Peter’s when he lifts his hand to take another drink. “How about we make our own little band. Peter and Tony. Pony? No. Parker and Stark? _ Starker_,” Tony clicks his fingers together and points at Peter, who’s grinning. “We’ll be _ Starker,_ the outcasts.”

“Do we have to make music? Because I’m _ really _bad at singing,” Peter says, laughter bubbling in his chest. Tony’s a little tipsy and it’s nice, seeing him let loose. 

“You can be the dancer, I’m sure you’ve got the moves. I’ll probably dislocate a hip. I’ll stick to screaming into the mic tunefully.”

“Is that even a thing?” Peter laughs, drinking out of his beer bottle. Tony shrugs and coughs, smacking a fist against his chest to clear out his throat. He opens his mouth and Peter narrowly avoids snorting the beer out of his nose when Tony starts to let out a long squeak. Peter swallows the mouthful of beer and lets out a hysterical laugh.

“Stop it, oh my God, that’s awful.” Peter shoves Tony’s shoulder gently and Tony closes his mouth, smirking at him, eyes creased. 

“Maybe we should disband _ Starker _ . I don’t think it’s gonna work out with that kind of support,” Tony jokes, his smirk turning into a grin. Peter’s grin fades into a sweet smile, staring at the expression on Tony’s face. Happy, light, his hair tousled, his cheeks tinted pink, the wrinkles around his eyes deep. _ This, _this was the reason he spent those five years in space. 

His fingers itch to reach out and touch the face he’d waited so long to see again. The face he’d bought back into everyone’s lives.

And it could be the alcohol sending a haze over his mind, or the suffocating warmth in his chest, but he does. He lifts a hand, slowly, and when Tony spots it, he doesn’t do anything. Just watches, waits, to see what it is Peter’s going to do.

There’s a crash.

Peter jerks and immediately, his spidey-sense goes into overdrive. There’s a scream on the other side of the lounge and Tony’s stiff by his side, eyes scanning the crowd quickly, calculating. There’s another scream, footsteps, and then a body is flung over the top of the crowd. _ Steve. _

Tony and Peter spring into action, Peter throws his bottle to the floor and runs straight for the sound of the shouts. Tony runs in the opposite direction, reaching for the fire alarm on the wall and yanking it. A piercing siren sounds throughout the entire floor, shattering Peter’s eardrums.

Peter bursts through a wall of people and staggers into an open space, where Bucky, Wanda and Thor are facing off against what looks like a black shadow. It stands still, the edges of it trembling and it’s _ wrong, _everything about the aura coming off of it in waves is deeply unsettling. It’s flickering in and out of view, like static. 

“What is it? What’s going on?” Peter shouts over the alarms to Bucky, who shrugs in response, legs spread and arms up in defense. Peter watches the black shadow carefully as it steps closer and closer.

“Whatever it is, it’s ridiculously strong,” Steve’s voice shouts from next to him, emerging from the crowd. “We need to get these people out of here. Pete, can you try and tie it up?” 

Peter swallows, looking over at the shadow, fear twisting in his gut. He's used to fighting new, unknown beings. But this is different. It feels like the faceless humanoid is looking _ through _him, sending chills down his spine. He nods, reaching into his pocket and attaching a webshooter to his wrist before moving forwards, legs firm and steady.

He shoots a web and it’s a relief when it hits the shadow like it’s solid. The edges of it ripple from the contact and the head moves down, facing the web. It’s even more eerie not being able to see its expression.

Peter starts to jump and move around it, firing web after web, slowly tangling its struggling arms and gluing its feet to the ground. Steve and the others work on evacuating the crowd quickly, the sound of heels and dress shoes smacking against the floor barely audible over the screaming alarm.

_ It’s too easy, _Peter thinks, landing on his two feet to stare at the shadow, which seems to have accepted the bindings. Bucky joins his side, eyeing up the figure warily.

It turns its head towards the both of them and moves its arms in one fluid motion. The webs break like they're made of cotton.

“Shit,” Bucky curses next to Peter. The shadow moves slowly towards them and Peter’s rooted, fear crippling his legs, and the shadow runs faster and faster.

Bucky steps in front of Peter to take the brunt of the charge and he crashes into Peter, sending them both to the floor with a crack. Peter’s head bounces off of the floor and he groans, clenching his eyes shut.

“It’s gone!” Wanda shouts over the alarms. Peter opens his eyes in surprise, and he looks around quickly, trying to scan the room for the ominous shadow. Then his vision is filled with darkness and he finds himself looking back up into the void. The figure grabs his throat tightly and Peter can feel his windpipe protesting, breath stuck in his throat. He screws his eyes shut against the impact and he’s dropped to the floor.

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky yells, before sliding across the floor to Peter. Peter’s coughing, bringing himself onto his knees to rub at his throat. Bucky’s hands come up to his face, his metal one cold yet comforting, tilting his head upwards to check him over. When Peter opens his eyes to look at him, he can see the figure blinking back into existence behind Bucky. His widened eyes immediately alert Bucky and he flings himself around, but he’s too late. The shadow sends Bucky across the floor and he crashes into the bar.

Peter pushes himself to his feet, ignoring the throbbing and wetness on the back of his head and the soreness on his neck. The shadow stalks towards him and Peter lifts his hands to guard his face when it throws a punch at him. He pushes back fist after fist, his forearms aching at the force of it.

Thor’s hammer comes at the shadow from the side, but it shrugs it off like its nothing. When a fist manages to sneak its way around Peter’s guard and hit him _ hard _in the side of his head, he falls to the floor, gasping. His eyes close when the room starts to spin.

“It’s gone again! ” Steve shouts “Why is it only after Peter?!”

Peter doesn’t have time to answer. He opens his eyes and the endless darkness fizzles back in front of him.

“Peter, close your eyes!” It’s Mr Stark’s voice this time, and Peter doesn’t think for a second, just obeys. He closes his eyes. The alarm finally decides to stop and the room feels deathly silent.

“Is it…” Bucky’s quiet voice comes from Peter’s left. “Is it only here when…”

“Open your eyes,” Tony’s voice comes from above him, Peter still sprawled out across the floor. Peter does, takes in the look on everyone’s face. It’s less than ten seconds before the shadow is flickering back into view in front of them. He clenches his eyes shut.

He can hear footsteps and rustling as someone crouches in front of him. The hand on his shoulder makes him flinch.

“Well,” Steve’s voice sounds sad, “Looks like those stones had a side effect after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late chapter!!! i got distracted writing another fic, which i'll be uploading here once i've finished the last chapter. (i'm terrible i know)
> 
> i'll probably be updating a lot more regularly now, (as long i don't get distracted by any other ideas djklfkj
> 
> also, this fic won't be as long i originally intended! although it might end up like 50000+ idk i'm terrible at self control
> 
> i hope u enjoyed it!!!


End file.
